Have you ever read about those people who die alone at home
and are finally discovered months later?
I used to think:
“How could anyone become so isolated?”
Now, I already seem to be headed that way.
Last of the family line.
No lovers. No close friends.
No carers. No visitors.
No letters. No phone calls
No social media.
No-one to miss me.
Unpaid bills might lead to investigations…
Thus, I fear such an end: unless I can break free of solitude.
But my body traps me inside the invisible cage of illness.
I have suffered from M.E. for 31 years.
Feeling like flu coming on…
(pain, aching, exhaustion, brain fog, sensitivity to sound, light, etc.)
Coping can be tough.
Any additional problems tend to overwhelm.
And, in my case, there are plenty more:
Anxiety, mood-swings, insomnia, TMJ, PTSD, herpes, migraine, IBS, depression, stress,
kidney stones, pancreatic insufficiency, chronic vertigo…
Struggling with this, across three decades, has worn me down.
Recovery grows unimaginable.
Expectations need reduction.
I still hold many interests.
Though lack energy to practice them.
Facing another birthday, alone,
too ill to go out,
I resolved to distinguish it
with an extra blog post.
Also, by trying something outside of my normal comfort zone:
Reaching out to others.
Best wishes to you all!
NB: (June 30th 2018)
I want to thank everyone for all the lovely comments;
and Sara in LaLaLand for her great kindness!
It was a wonderful surprise.